disjecta membra
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: In which love isn't always easy, but maybe, just maybe, it's worth it..:: Collection of unrelated RegulusBarty oneshots and drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: For the Ultimate OTP Competition (round one, prompt: anxious). For Michy.

You light another cigarette, trying to calm your nerves. Barty doesn't help matters. His quiet mutterings and the way he constantly shifts and wrings his hands like he's about to jump out of his own skin bleed into you. You find yourself mirroring his twitches, his anxiety infectious.

"Barty," you groan.

He stops, and you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows dryly. "It's just really real now, isn't it?"

You laugh, but the sound is too heavy, too dry. You've dreamt of this moment, of finally taking the Dark Mark, but now it's nearly terrifying. "It's always been real," you say, trying to regain your composure, to be the calm, apathetic Regulus you've always been.

Color creeps into his cheeks. "I know," he mutters defensively, his Ravenclaw pride undoubtedly wounded by your literalism. "I just mean..."

He trails off, and you're grateful for the silence. If he continues, his worries will only increase yours until you're both a couple wrecks with trembling limbs and stuttering words.

You inhale the smoke deeply, letting the nicotine snake its way through your system. Your eyes close as you exhale, and you think that maybe you can do this. It's not like turning back is really an option now.

The door opens, and you quickly snuff out your cigarette.

"The Dark Lord is ready for you," Bellatrix announces, offering you a dangerous, shark-like smile before disappearing through the door once again in a blur of darkness.

"Well?" you say, turning to Barty.

He takes your hand, and his skin upon yours works a magic that no calming draught or cigarette could ever manage. "Together," he whispers with a shy kiss to the corner of your lips.

"Together," you echo, and you find yourself thinking that if you have to burn, it is better to burn with him.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: For the Ultimate OTP Competition (bonus 1: a wedding). For Sam because RegBarty fluff is apparently possible.

"Oi, Crouch! Does dearest Daddy know that his precious son is at a Death Eater wedding?" Regulus teases, taking the seat beside you.

"No more than he knows that his precious son is a Death Eater," you mutter through a clinched jaw as the music begins to play and his cousin stomps her way down the aisle with narrowed eyes.

"It's all an act," Regulus whispers, leaning back lazily in his seat, his feet resting on the empty chair in front of him. "She can't stand ole Roddy. Can't blame her, really. Poor bastard is a terrible bore."

You nod, through you're not really listening. You've already seen the way Bellatrix looks at your master, and it's easy to guess where her heart lies.

"Seems a bit pointless."

You look at him, brows raised. "What does?"

"Marriage. Who needs a bloody ritual just to declare that someone belongs to you?"

"So, you'll never get married?"

Regulus shakes his head. "Nope."

"Not even if I asked nicely?" you press, though, like Regulus, you have no intention of ever pledging your love and devotion til death do you part.

A crooked grin plays at his lips. "Maybe," he chuckles. "But you're wearing the dress."

You scowl and fix your eyes straight ahead. "Never getting married," you decide.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: For the Ultimate OTP Competition (round 1, bonus 2: surprise)

You sit together atop the Astronomy Tower, watching the starry sky without saying a word.

It surprises you how you live for these little moments with Barty. A war is brewing. Soon, you'll have to choose a side, but, for now, all that matters is that he is beside you. He is there, and the future almost seems like such a silly, faraway thing.

Your fingers lace with his as your other hand brings your cigarette to your lips. You wonder if he would follow you, regardless of your choice. Would he forsake his father for the sake of love? You've heard Barty speak of him before, and you're certain that he would.

But could you drag him down this path that your heart is set on? You know that damnation waits for you in the end. It would be kinder to sever the ties and set him free. Suffer alone; leave him out of it. He doesn't deserve the life that you're choosing for yourself.

But the weight of his hand in yours is so familiar, so comfortable. You never want to let go, never want to lose him, even if it means forcing him to fall from grace.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: For the Ultimate OTP Competition (round 1, bonus 3: angst)

He comes to you with wild, fearful eyes- the eyes of a haunted man.

"Regulus?" you whisper, but he doesn't seem to hear you.

He pulls you close, his lips crushing against yours in a frantic, desperate kiss. You can taste the finality on his tongue, but you try to ignore it as you fall into a bed together in a tangle and clash of limbs, slick skin upon slick skin.

You are only imagining things. This cannot be goodbye.

OoOoO

"Regulus?"

Your heavy eyes blink weakly against the dark, and your hands reach for him. He is still there, his body tense.

"Reg?"

His lips brush your forehead. "Sleep, Barty."

And you do.

OoOoO

"Regulus?"

Your hands graze over the spot where your lover should be, but his side of the bed is cold. Immediately, you're wide awake, the lingering haze of sleep forced away by his absence.

You try not to think about how his kiss had tasted like a farewell. You try not to remember the way his hands had moved so slowly over your body as though he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory, as though he would never see you again and needed something to make it through.

But the thoughts are so loud inside your head, and you can't see another option.

Regulus is gone. Regulus has abandoned you. And worse, still, you should have seen it coming.


	5. Chapter 5

**For the Ultimate OTP Competition (Round 2, main piece, prompt: Polyjuice Potion)**

Bellatrix sits across from you, a strange smile on her lips. "What do you think of Barty?" she asks.

Your brows raise in confusion, and it takes a moment to process her question. "He's okay," you answer carefully, inching back in case this is the wrong answer.

Your cousin leans closer. "Just okay? I've seen the way you look at him. Seems like you think he's a little more than okay."

A smirk pulls at your lips as you catch on. Leaning back in your chair, you fold your arms over your chest, a hint of a shrug tugging at your shoulders. "I only look at him because I'm surprised the bastard is still alive. Poor bloke thinks he can fit in, but it really isn't working, is it?"

"What?"

You nod, enjoying the color that creeps into her cheeks. "Don't know why you're so interested, Bella," you continue, trying to keep a straight face. "He really doesn't seem worth it."

She rises to her feet, fists slamming against the table almost childishly. "I'd better go."

"Probably. I'm sure that Polyjuice Potion will be wearing off soon, Barty."

"I- How did you know?"

"The day Bellatrix comes in asking about my romantic interests is the day Albus Dumbledore joins the Death Eaters. Narcissa, maybe, if we were about six years younger," you explain.

Barty, still in Bellatrix's skin sits again, scowling at the table with a rich blush. He doesn't speak.

"Really, Barty, what are you, twelve? You couldn't have asked me outright what I think of you?"

"You're very intimidating."

That makes you laugh, a light, genuine laugh. Intimidating? Not a word you'd ever apply to yourself. "Now, if you want to know how I really feel, come back when the potion wears off."

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"Because I'm a bit uncomfortable confessing my love to the spitting image of my cousin."


	6. Chapter 6

"Barty?"

You freeze, foot lifted and ready to fall onto the step. "Yes, Father?"

He appears, a deep frown carved into his face. "I thought you were studying," he says, his voice low and dangerous, the way it always is when there's been trouble at the Ministry.

This is dangerous territory. One wrong word, one little slip, and you're as good as dead. "I was," you insist.

Technically, after you snuck out, you and Regulus had studied for a few minutes. This half truth is the only thing keeping your voice level.

"I fancied a snack," you continue, feeling a little more confident in yourself. "So I took a break."

His brows raise, and his eyes move over your face. You try not to look away, not to give him any reason not to trust you.

"Is that so?" he asks, his voice sharp.

"Yes, sir."

"Then why was your room empty when I sent Winky to check on you earlier?"

Your heart hammers in your chest. Is he bluffing? His face is too straight; you can't be sure. "I must have-"

But your father has had enough. He marches over, grabbing your wrist and marching you up the stairs.

* * *

"Go away, Reg," you groan when his face appears in your window.

Regulus frowns. "Come on, Barty. I'm freezing my arse off out here," he calls, and you leap to your feet to let him in so that he doesn't keep talking loudly and wake the whole house.

"You're limping," he says when his feet are planted safely on your carpet.

"I'm not," you mutter, color flooding your cheeks.

"There! You're doing it again. What is it?"

"Regulus, it's nothing," you insist, wishing he'd get the hint and just drop it.

Of course, you're not that lucky. Regulus reaches out, tugging your shirt up enough that he can see the purple-black bruise marbling your hips. Another tug, and he uncovers the trail that snakes its way up to your ribs, back, and stomach.

"Barty..."

You tug your shirt down, furious tears burning your eyes.

"He did this?"

Reluctantly, you nod.

"Dammit. Where is he? I'll kill him right bloody now!"

You shake your head, pulling him close, desperately holding onto him. For once, he lets you win, and he softens against your touch, kissing you gently. "Just wait, Barty," he murmurs. "I'll be the one to kill him. Got it?"

You almost laugh. For all the talks of Death Eaters and all the greater things that wait for you after Hogwarts, you don't really imagine Regulus as a killer. But you don't tell him that. Instead, you let him guide you onto the bed, his lips moving softly over your every bruise like he can kiss the pain away.


	7. Chapter 7

**For the Ultimate OTP Competition (round 3, main entry, prompt: a kiss on the cheek)**

You sit, legs drawn against your chest, sleepless eyes fixed on the window as you listen to Barty's steady breathing beside you.

You almost envy him. He is allowed to sleep through the night without the endless worry of what you must do. He can remain innocent, oblivious to your plans of betrayal.

You wish you could curl up beside him and sleep through the night in his arms. You wish you could throw your worries and fears to the wind, forget them all and just stay with him.

But you can't. You've made your choice, and night is rapidly slipping away. You have to follow through, one act of bravery and defiance far too late. You have to leave him and face this alone because you've dragged him down far enough, and you will not let him die with you.

No time left.

You turn to him, bending down and kissing him gently on the cheek.

Barty shifts, curling towards you in his sleep, mumbling something. One word, just one that he's spoken a thousand times before. "Regulus."

He sounds so helpless, so desperate, like he somehow knows what you're planning to do, knows that you're not coming back. For one moment, you think of staying, of pretending to still believe in the path that you're still. Or perhaps you could run away together, leave it all behind and start over somewhere that hasn't been tainted by this war.

"Regulus..."

You brush your fingers through his hair, squeezing your eyes closed as you climb out of bed.

If only his voice could be enough.


	8. Chapter 8

**Written for round four of the Ultimate OTP competition (main entry, Muggle!AU) and the Off the Block Competition (Backstroke, Extra Hard, write an AU with the genre angst)**

**.**

You see him outside of school, staring up at the iron gates with a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips. You know who he is, his reputation. Everyone in the city has heard whispers that the Black family is in league with the infamous Death Eater gang, even if your father and all the other policemen in town can't obtain solid evidence.

You know you should keep going. Be a good boy, Barty. Steer clear of that boy who is nothing but trouble. But your feet have other plans, and they guide you directly in front of him.

"Too cool for school?" you ask, your voice awkward and barely a whisper. You wince. It had sounded so much better in your head.

Regulus smirks. "Something like that," he laughs, blowing smoking in your face. "Not thinking about skiving off, are you, Crouch?"

"N-no. Of course not."

His smirk only broadens. "Didn't think so," he says, dropping the cigarette to the pavement.

"You shouldn't litter."

"You shouldn't worry about what I do. Run along, little Crouch. Wouldn't want to be late, would you?"

**.**

"Mrs. Hooch said she saw you talking to Regulus Black," Father says over dinner.

"I was merely telling him he should get to class," you mutter, scraping your fork over your plate absently.

"Best not to bother. That boy is bad news, Barty. Not worth your time."

"Yes, Father."

**.**

His eyes meet yours as you pass him on your way to school. You're certain you seem him smile, and even more certain that you feel his eyes on your back as you walk past.

**.**

"Are you really in a gang?" you ask before you can stop yourself.

Regulus narrows his eyes, his handsome face becoming dark. "Your daddy tell you to ask me that?"

"He told me to stay away from you, actually."

With a laugh, he tucks a cigarette between his lips. God, why do you envy that filter so?

"I'll answer your question on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Join me."

Your heart skips a beat. It's practically a confession. More, though, it's an invitation, an invitation you ought to refuse. "Why would you want that?"

"I'm curious. Do you always do what your daddy tells you, little Crouch? Am I imagining that darkness in your eyes? Hmm?"

"I'll think about it."

"Meet me by the docks at midnight. If you don't show, well, you'll never know."

**.**

You place a hand over your chest as though that can somehow muffle the sound of your rapidly pounding heart. You should go home. You should forget about Regulus and this ridiculous gang nonsense. That's for your father to deal with. Not you.

"I didn't think you'd come," Regulus says, emerging from the shadows, his face half hidden by a hood.

"Neither did I," you admit.

He chuckles. "Well?"

"Okay."

**.**

Getting in isn't easy. You're beaten mercilessly until you're afraid you might pass out from the pain. You taste blood in your mouth from biting the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming.

And then it's over.

"Didn't even cry," a boy with long blond hair says, letting out an impressed whistle. "Reg nearly pissed himself when he was let in."

"Shut up, Lucius," Regulus grumbles, grabbing your arm and jerking you to your feet. "Welcome to the Death Eaters. Remember, the only way out now is in a grave."

You shudder but nod.

Regulus' face softens, and his hand relaxes on your arm. "You did well."

**.**

"Where are you going?" your father asks.

"I have a report due tomorrow. Pulling an all-nighter with some friends."

He studies you for a moment, but he doesn't question it. You are a good boy, after all. Why on earth would he need to worry about what you're up to?

**.**

"What are we doing, then? Robbing little old ladies? Selling drugs to small children?"

Regulus rolls his eyes. "This isn't an initiation," he says. "I called you here, not Lord."

You don't know whether you're more relieved or confused. "You? Why?"

"Because it's easier to do this in private," he answers before kissing you.

He tastes like menthol and tobacco. It should disgust, but somehow it tastes like heaven.

"That was-"

"Shut up," he mutters, pulling you in for another kiss.

**.**

Your knuckles are bruised and bloody from a fight with a rival Phoenix gang member. You'll probably have a black eye in the morning, and you'll have to explain it to your father somehow.

But Regulus lets out a triumphant whoop and passes you a bottle of vodka, and nothing else seems to matter.

**.**

"What the hell has gotten into you?" your father demands. "You've been fighting. You missed school yesterday. I want answers."

"Barty," your mother sighs.

"Not now, Judith. I'm waiting, Barty."

"It won't happen again, sir."

"See that it doesn't."

**.**

Regulus holds your hand as the needle tattoos black ink into your back. You grit your teeth, trying to focus on him and not the pain.

"You're the real deal now," he says when Lord sets the tattoo gun to the side. "Bona fide Death Eater."

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a grin playing at his lips. You smile back because you've never felt so alive.

**.**

"Murder?" Regulus asks uncomfortably.

His cousin nods, slamming her palms against the table. "The Phoenix bastard, Mad-Eye, has taken Rosier from us," she hisses. "Fair is fair."

"I dunno, Bella. That's a bit much for me."

You shrink back on Regulus' behalf. Bellatrix Black is insane at best, and you wonder if Regulus might be a bit unstable himself to question her.

"You think we're just going to sit back, drink tea, and braid our hair? Is this a game to you, Regulus?"

"Of course not, but-"

"And you, Crouch? Ready to prove yourself?"

"Yes."

Regulus meets your gaze, a flicker of shock in his grey eyes. But he remains silent as he shifts his attention to his clasped hands.

**.**

"Are you insane? This is a person's life we're talking about here!" Regulus hisses.

"Cold feet?"

He glares, and you almost regret your jab. "Who are you?"

"You know who I am."

"I'm beginning to wonder."

Anger heats your body, and you shove him. "What's that supposed to mean? You're the one who brought me into this, remember?" you snap, hands balling into fists.

He doesn't rise to the challenge. Instead, he places his palms on either side of your face, kissing you gently. "I wish I hadn't. I wish you'd brought me out of it."

"Only way out is in a grave, remember."

He laughs bitterly. "Yeah. I remember."

**.**

"Where's Regulus?" Bella asks.

"I thought he'dbe with you," you say with a frown.

Had he backed out? You know that he hadn't wanted to be involved, but you'd assumed he'd get over it.

"Doesn't matter," she growls, shaking her head. "We have work to do."

**.**

It takes almost an hour to wash Frank and Alice's blood from your body. Even when you emerge from the shower, you're still certain that you feel the sticky crimson liquid on your skin, though there's nothing there.

"You did good," Bellatrix says, tossing you a clean shirt. "I'm impressed."

**.**

"This was left for you," your father says, handing you an envelope with just your name.

There's no return address, but you recognize Regulus' elegant handwriting immediately.

**.**

_Dearest Barty,_

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I'm doing. I'm sorry for what I've done to you._

_You don't deserve this life. I was selfish and dragged you down with me because I wanted to get close to you, even if it meant forcing my world on you. That was a lonely boy's mistake._

_I hope you know that I do love you. Even if I don't love what you've become, what I've made you. I pray that the old you is still left inside._

_Don't think too poorly of me for my choice. The only way out is in a grave, and I'll be damned if I let them have that pleasure._

_Yours always,_

_Regulus_

**.**

"The body of Regulus Black, eighteen, was found washed up on the shore last night," the reporter says with forced emotion. "Foul play has not been ruled out, though sources say they believe that Black may have jumped to his death."

"Good riddance," Father mumbles. "One less scum bag to chase down."

You start to answer, but you're spared by a knock at the door. "I'll get it," you say, climbing to your feet and hurrying across the room.

Two policemen wait for you. "Barty Crouch Jr., you are under arrest for the murders of Frank Longbottom and Alice Fortescue."

You can't help but to laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

**For-**

**Ultimate OTP Comp (main entry, a wave goodbye)**

**As Strong As We are United (team two, 218 words)**

You kiss him again, pinning him to the compartment wall, pressing closer to him as though to make up in advance for the months you'll have to spend away from him. "Love you," you whisper into his mouth.

Maybe Barty says it back, but you can't tell. His voice is too muffled by your desperate lips.

The train begins to slow, and you swear softly, still keeping a firm hold on Barty. You have only minutes now, rapidly fleeting minutes that fade into seconds with each breath.

You will have to let go soon. You will have to go back to pretending to be the perfect pureblood, and Barty the Ministry brat. You will go back to your separate lives, masquerading as strangers who might pass one another on the street with a cordial nod.

But for now, he is yours, and you are his. For now, time does not matter.

"I wish things could be different," you admit.

Barty slumps against you, head resting on your shoulder. "So do I," he sighs, his breath tickling your neck as the train finally stops.

He leaves the compartment first with a soft smile and wave goodbye. You count to twenty in your head before following, and he is already lost in the sea of students ready to return home.


End file.
